


Hairstreaks Harvesters and Metalmarks

by Blucifer



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Cock Warming, Dancer Hwang Hyunjin, Edgeplay, Felix's harem, Harems, Light BDSM, Love at First Sight, M/M, Mystic Minho, Polyamory, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Sexual Mysticism, They are all married to Felix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:21:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29411157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blucifer/pseuds/Blucifer
Summary: Minho’s husband is in love with being in love, and Minho supposes that it’s best that way, given how their rulers are expected to to fill their homes with spouses and lovers.  Minho recognizes the stranger who lingers in the temple for who he is, and what he is immediately.
Relationships: Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Felix, Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Felix/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Lee Felix/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 6
Kudos: 90





	Hairstreaks Harvesters and Metalmarks

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically a prequel fic to Monarchs Viceroys and Swallowtails but really it's mostly about cock.

“You find yourself bare, but you do not feel the sharp bite of the cold.” Minho’s voice, calm and steady leads, him through the darkness of his own mind. He’s left the temple, which smells of sage, lavender, and sandalwood. He’s left the forefront of his mind, which is cluttered with worry. Yes, Minho led him all the way to the very back of his mind to a secret back room. It’s quiet here and his thoughts are scant. 

“Because you are wrapped in soft warm velvet. It fills every space, but does not cling to your body.” 

Felix’s lip trembles as Minho’s words wash over him. A soft moan escapes in that tremble, as Minho deftly, almost detachedly so, touches his aching cock, holding him at the base and rubbing the head with the tips of his fingers in a polishing motion. 

Warm fragrant smoke wafts over him. So sensitive is his body in the temple, he can feel every tendril and plume embrace his body. 

“What color is it Felix?” 

“Green. Dark, almost black.” 

“Part that velvet Felix, and on the other side you will find the answer.”

“I’m not ready.” Felix can see waves and waves of forest green velvet, can feel it lap against his skin. Fear tugs at his heart, making it impossible to see what is on the other side. 

“I see.” Minho’s voice remains calm, even kind, but Felix fears there must be  _ some  _ disappointment far, far beneath. “We’ll try again then.” 

Expertly, he pushes Felix’s legs back, cups his balls between his fingers drawing them tight and teasing them with a light tapping motion. Over and over again until Felix is fitful, desperate. Only then does Minho touch his cock once again smearing precum across the palm of his hand. 

“I wonder what it is that hides behind the curtain? It could be something terrible for you, but--” Minho knows his husband. Knows his faults, his habits, and his fears. “I don’t think so. I think it’s something that you want very much, to the point of greed. That’s why you’re afraid.” 

Felix shudders under the bluntness of Minho’s touch and words. 

Green, so dark that it’s almost black. Without sight, there’s nothing left than to focus on the sound of Minho’s voice, on the sensation of him teasing his cock until it’s red and oversensitive, fuck up into the hand that touches him but refuses to envelop him. 

“Do you not trust me Felix? To save your soul from greed?” 

Felix knows the answer. He  _ knows  _ that Minho is right, much like he knows that he’s close. Minho brings him right to the edge and touches him in just the right way to hold him there. But everything is wound so tight. Soon, not even Minho will be able to keep him from snapping. 

In the darkness of his mind, Felix can see a man who he has never met before in waking life dancing. A long shawl is draped over his shoulders; he falls to the floor with an inhibition that he will never know, regardless of how much alcohol he drinks. Eyes glassy, face flushed. 

“Now you’re opening up to me. That’s right. I’ll keep you safe Felix, because no one’s dragging you down into the depths of hell except for me.” Minho laughs dryly. It might chill the veins of other men, but Felix expects this. It’s Minho’s way of letting him know just how dedicated he is to taking all of his problems, stretching them until they are thin and transparent, and letting them free in the wind. It’s just Minho’s way of saying that he loves him. 

“Ah--tell me.” The circling motions on the tip of his cock speed up. Precum leaks constantly from the tip and he feels so messy and undignified. “He’s very pretty. Do we have a name?” At the question, Minho changes his touch once more. Finally, finally wrapping his hand around Felix’s cock and stroking him. 

His name is on his tongue as Minho makes him cum. The name of a boy that he does not yet know, may never know. “Hyunjin--” 

Minho strokes him through his orgasm, making sure that every last pulse, and every last tremble of his cock is attended to. It does not matter if another man's name rests upon his tongue. 

Then, his touch stills. Minho allows him one last moment of silence, peace, and reflection before pulling him back to reality. He loosens the blindfold tied around his eyes, wipes his cock clean with damp cloth, and carefully tucks it back into his pants. 

Felix feels woozy, disoriented, more than he normally does when he visits Minho in the temple. The sound of the holy fountain trickling, Minho speaking to him softly, even the soft mewls of his pet cats sound muted, as if he had cotton stuffed in his ears. He trembles against his husband’s shoulder when Minho helps him move to a sitting position on the altar. 

“I suppose now is the time when you lecture me. What a foolish thing to be tormented by.” 

“I will not,” Minho responds coolly. "After all, your well-being rests within these hands." Minho links their fingers together and squeezes tightly. 

Minho, although infinitely wise, does not give his affection freely. In fact there are times when he makes Seungmin look wild and uninhibited. The sight of Felix’s hand clasped in Minho’s, their fingers equal in length, is a rare, almost frightening sight indeed. “Not to mention, it’s been awhile since you brought anything so salacious to confessional. I’d almost say it’s been boring lately.” This is why he loves Minho. For all of his magic and all of his power, there are times in which he seems so ordinary.

“Well, I’m glad to have brought you some excitement.” 

“To say the least. You think this is a lover. What if it's a rival? What if this is a premonition of an assasination attempt? You haven’t had one of those since your coronation.” 

“You’ll look stunning in mourning gowns Minho.” 

“No. I’ve never looked good in black.” The playfulness in Minho’s voice slip-slides back into one of hyper focused professionalism. “Regardless of how you feel the session went, powerful magic was made here today. Do not forget that. You will find answers to these questions. I will help you.” 

Felix isn’t so certain. 

“Now, you have a busy day. A session in parliament where you will hear the case for new legislation, a cartography lesson, and the esteemed arrival of the prince of Cygnus, which you are late for...So perhaps, believe me for once since there are more pressing matters?” 

“Yes I--” Wait, was he really here for that long? Oh no. “Are you serious?” He doesn’t even give Minho the chance to respond, gathering up his robes, leaping off of the altar and tearing out of the temple.

* * *

“I have one more gift for you.” The prince if Cygnus has a glimmer in his eyes that Felix knows quite well. It is the kind of expression that men make when they want to offer something that doesn’t wholly belong to them. When they want to speak of something illicit, but do not find it illicit for the correct reasons. 

Alcohol and worry make his face flush red. At that moment, he’s glad he has Seungmin by his side. He squeezes his arm to stabilize himself. Seungmin shoots him a look that says, “You’re forgetting something.” 

Felix stammers, “the prince is so generous.” Yes. So grateful that he has Seungmin by his side. As Chan converses with some of the prince’s husbands and Changbin joins. As Minho has excused himself once again from another palace formality. 

The traveling prince asks him, “I hear that prince Felix has quite the collection already. So I hope that you can find something new, and of your tastes?” 

“What?” It’s only then that Felix notices that the tone of the music has shifted. The light and airy chords that invite conversation and are easily spoken over replaced now with something faster, more dramatic, and daring. 

The smell of rich food is replaced by that of thick and fragrant incense. Colored smoke unfurls from either side of the court, obscuring movement. It reminds Felix of the temple, and he wonders what spirits will be called upon here. 

Dancers emerge from that smoke, their long luxurious bodies draped in silk, their skin in every imaginable shade. There is great variation in the types of bodies too: large and powerful, lithe and lean. Men and women. He recognizes these provocative costumes in green-black. He’s seen them in his dreams. 

Felix has had men brought to him in this way before, and when it has happened in the past, Felix has paid little attention. But now he watches each dancer pass before him in rapt fascination as they drop trinkets at his feet: keys of silver, and figures of ivory, and baubles of ruby and sapphire. Selecting a token among these offerings means selecting a partner. 

Felix watches for him in the throng, even when Seungmin’s searing, jealous gaze threatens to pull him away. 

“Nothing?” The traveling prince asks him. “No one?” 

Felix does not want to be rude, but he knows who it is that he wants. The boy in his dreams, if he is not here,  _ should  _ be here. 

“Or perhaps you do not wish to make such a choice in the presence of your nlelya,” the prince of Cygnus laughs. 

In their culture, courtship allows for sex before marriage. Even more casual trysts are acceptable under certain circumstances such as this...But Felix is quite particular. His harem is almost exclusively composed of men that he has married. His appointed husband, arguably the most powerful among them, well, his reputation is one of fire, and passion and possession. It would be easy to hide behind the possessiveness that Seungmin holds for him. He’s done it many times before when other leaders have made such an offering. Normally he would, but he has a feeling...“They are all quite lovely.” It is a compliment freely given. The dancers of Cignus are beautiful. “But I believe there is one more.” 

“One more?” 

“The dancer that I want. I do not see him here.” 

* * *

Minho’s husband is in love with being in love, and Minho supposes that it’s best that way, given how their rulers are expected to to fill their homes with spouses and lovers. 

They’ve never met before, but Minho recognizes the stranger who lingers in the temple for who he is, and what he is immediately. His presence is commanding but playful. He had no proof that the boy in Felix’s visions arrived in the palace, but he feels these things in the wind and hears them in the rustle of tree leaves. 

His clothes hardly cover his body, and his upbringing and training prevent him from feeling shame. His shoes are discarded. He sits upon the intricately tessellated floor, encircled by three or four of the cats that have claimed the high temple as home. 

“Hyunjin.” He’s never had his name upon his tongue before. His tone has a slight lilt to it despite the fact that he should be serious right now. He can hear his mentor, the last high mystic’s voice buzz in the back of his mind that he should bring poise, and power, and authority, because if he cannot do it here then where else would he? “Are you not expected in the prince’s court at this hour?” 

Hyunjin looks startled. 

“You talk to me like we’ve met before.” Hyunjin does not rise and stand at attention. He does not bow low to ask for forgiveness for entering such a sacred place without permission, but focuses his attention on a yellow tabby in front of him. Playing with her fur at first, he picks her up and holds her close to his chest, letting her claw and swat at the intricate embroidery on the strip of fabric across his chest that one  _ might  _ call a shirt. He looks quite content. 

“I feel like we’ve met before,” Minho admits. “Are you here to confess to me?” 

“No,” he says simply. 

“Will you at least tell me, what kind of trinket you were intended to present before my husband to choose you in the Prince’s game?” 

Hyunjin smiles and when he smiles at Minho the line under his eye crinkles in a way that makes Minho feel as if he’s just been burdened immensely by his attractiveness. And although it would not alleviate the burden one bit, he’d certainly feel better if he could kiss the beauty mark under his eye that rests within that crinkle. 

Hyunjin releases the kitten, rises and unfurls his long, spindly arms. From them hangs a cape of shining black velvet. It’s dappled with shining, metallic spots in jewel toned green. He spins slightly, and Minho can see the grace with which he moves, sees how he would have easily put any other dancer in the traveling prince’s harem to shame. 

“It’s a Metalmark. You know, a butterfly. I would dance,” Hyunjin skirts across the temple floor, holds pose, and moves back. In a fluid motion he unclasps the fabric and drops it at Minho’s feet. “Present him with my shawl. Wait for him.” He bites his lower lip like he wants to say more but speaks better of it. Silently, he takes his place back upon the temple floor, sitting first, and then laying upon his back. 

For no reason, other than he just so happened to  _ tell  _ Felix that he would handle the problem, Minho joins Hyunjin, first sitting upon the floor and then laying back.

“Do you do this often?” Hyunjin asks. Soon, his position mirrors Minho’s. He lies upon his back, their positions inverted so that his feet are near Minho’s head. Both look up at the high vaulted ceilings of the temple which are intricately carved and painted. 

“No.” Minho responds. 

“Pity. These murals are beautiful.” Nothing is said for a long time, other than the trickle of the baptismal fountain. “I see him in my dreams.” 

“So, don’t you wish to meet him?” 

“If we meet, what will he ask of me? In my visions--” His face grows red with emotion. “He will assume that I will give it to him simply because my standing. If I, a lowly dancer, come to him in a dream then we are fated. I will surely have no reason to say anything other than yes?” 

Minho doesn’t owe Hyunjin anything, but Minho is the one who is here listening to him pour his heart and soul out onto the temple floor. Minho  _ is  _ expected to keep the temple clean, and surely the stain of his soul would never come clean from the tiles if it were left to dry. 

“I don’t think he’d ever be so cold as to think that.” 

“My mother is back on Cygnus. My friends. My whole life.” 

“He has visions of you too Hyunjin. I told Felix that he was probably having premonitions of an assassin attempt,” Minho’s mouth curls into a closed mouth smile that blossoms open when he catches Hyunjin’s angry glare.

“You can say no if you want, and he will allow it.” 

“I told him  _ no  _ four times before I said yes.” 

“Why?”

“I cared for him so much, for such a long time. But, I married very young and it ended very poorly as it often happens when people marry very young. So, I decided to dedicate the rest of my life to things I really like, spells, potion making, meddling.” 

“It’s working well for you,” Hyunjin quips. 

“I was hesitant to go through that again,” Minho confesses. “But one day he asked me and my first thought wasn’t to say yes. It was,  _ what if I say no and he never asks again?  _ Then I knew that something had changed.” 

Hyunjin changes the subject abruptly. Although he wanted condolence, he is not ready for the caustic healing of mutual vulnerability. “What do these murals mean?” He gestures to the large ancient painting on the vaulted ceiling under which they lay. 

“Tell me Hyunjin, have you ever heard that my people, the people of this planet, are lovers of tradition? Of folklore, and destiny? No need to lie, I know it’s a stereotype.” 

“I have heard that your people treat yawns like omens for sleep.” 

Minho’s laughter starts in his belly and echoes out in the cavernous temple. “I should have you hanged for that.” There’s more to be said beyond empty threats but the laughter keeps coming and coming and coming until there’s tears in his eyes. Only then can he stop. “As I was saying. Would you say that, living among royalty, living this strange and needlessly ritualized life, do things often feel contrived?” 

“Without question.” 

“Right now we lie under, and look at a mural depicting the miracle roses of Gele. A slelya of queen Ribina, someone that must be Felix’s grandmother ten or twelve times over, became very ill. Esther, her slelya tended a rose garden. Amethyst, her qlelya, made a potion of the petals of the roses that Esther brought. Together, they fed the potion to the queen, and in time the queen was healed.” 

“So let me guess. Your title, when you married Felix was...qlelya?” 

“Hm,” Minho hums. 

“So my title would be…” 

“Hm,” Minho says again. 

“Very contrived,” Hyunjin agrees. 

* * *

His advisors had warned him that the prince of Cygnus, enjoyed a good time. Felix responded in kind by planning a feast, demanding that every type of wine and ale and hard spirits from the cellar be brought up so that the visiting prince could sample each. He arranged for games, and music, and dancing and he truly believes that he was able to make the traveling prince happy even though he was not able to accept his final gift. But the trimoons hang low in the sky, suggesting that the rising sun is nearby. He believes that must speak to the evening’s success.

Felix totters down the hallway to his chambers, each step precarious. He’s not used to having one or two drinks and then falling asleep immediately after. Over the course of the night the traveling prince kept refiling his glass..He had to have had five or six helpings. Oh, he must be quite drunk. 

How did he end up in this state  _ without  _ a husband to cling to? Seungmin was at his side for most of the night, dutiful as ever, but Felix sent him to bed when his head drooped low at the table. Chan was  _ still  _ speaking to the prince when he left the grand hall, although the party had long since formally finished. They knew each other from Chan’s days trading and exploring, which is no surprise. Chan knows everyone. Changbin and Han left together, because Felix told them he’d likely spend the night with Chan. What a horrible situation to be in.

Strong arms embrace him from behind and--oh gods what if Minho was right? Felix fights off the attacker best he can in his drunken state pushing and kicking, but--. 

“Ah, I see. This is how my lover treats me?” Minho chuckles darkly into his ear.

“Minho,” Felix relaxes “what are you doing here?” 

“Can’t I walk you to bed?” Minho lets go of his middle and joins Felix at his side. 

“You could  _ come  _ to bed.” Felix grabs for Minho’s arm, and holds onto him for dear life as they traverse the hallway. 

“Ah, not tonight,” Minho says reluctantly. 

“Why not?” Felix does his very best not to pout. 

“Ah, well Felix.” Minho stops at the door to Felix’s chambers. Only then does he allow himself to show his husband true affection by drawing him close and looking upon him hungrily. Where Felix expects a perfect cupid’s bow mouth pressed against his own, but that is not where Minho arrives. Instead, he gets those sacred lips pressed to the hollow of his throat. Warm lips caress him tenderly, setting his skin aflame. Only then does Minho kiss him properly on the mouth. “Because I believe in keeping my promises.” Then he toussles his hair, toeing the line between playful and patronizing that Minho so often does with him. 

“I don’t understand.” 

Minho kisses him again, this time on the crown of his head. “Good night prince. I must be going, surely my cats miss me.” 

“Minho wait,” he can hear the petulant twinge in his voice, but he just doesn’t care. He’s too drunk to understand what it all means. 

But, just like that Minho is gone. He doesn’t glide back down the long corridor, he’s just gone like he was never with him in the first place. Felix must be so drunk that he hallucinated the whole thing. 

His suspicion is only confirmed when he enters his room. In his chambers he finds a boy long and lithe draped across his bed sleeping peacefully as Felix has longed to do for hours now. However, he’s dressed for something a bit  _ more  _ than simply sleeping. He’s dripping in jewelry, from thick heavy gold bangles around his wrists to delicate anklets at his feet. They almost remind him of shackles. A sparkling green emerald, the royal color of Cygnus transfixed just above his navel, Felix wonders how it stays there so neatly. His shorts are a matching shade of emerald, lacy and sheer. 

His skin takes on an ethereal golden hue in the rising dawn light. He'll ask for a servant to draw the curtains so that the sun doesn't wake them when it soon rises. 

For Felix, there is no question of who this is. This is Hyunjin. He is a member of the prince’s harem. He is the missing dancer from the night’s activities. He  _ must  _ be concubine or a husband of lower status for the prince to let him lie with another. His beauty is so striking, for Felix it begs the question  _ why?  _ If he were his, he’d never let him out of his sight…

If. 

What is Hyunjin if not his? Much like the fine embroidered fabrics and precious metals exchanged between them this afternoon, he is a gift. 

And is it right to feel envious  _ of  _ a gift? 

He sleeps so deeply and so calmly. 

“Shall I send him away sir?” His servant asks him. 

“No.” Felix wonders if the jewelry cuts into his skin. If he is cold and if he needs a blanket. “He’s sleeping quite soundly. He should stay.”

Felix allows the aide to help him out of his intricate formal clothing and into his sleeping clothes. Then he crawls into the  _ other  _ side of his massive bed, the side that is  _ usually  _ reserved for whichever husband has joined him in bed on that particular night. His last thought, shortly after his head hits the pillow and  _ just  _ before sleeping, “how did you get here?”

Felix wakes at his usual time despite having just gone to bed at dawn. He hates the sensation of unrest, his stomach queasy and head filled with static. 

The boy next to him still sleeps soundly. Face rested against his golden bangle, an angry red depression imprinted on his cheek. It’s strange to see this person that he’s only seen before in a vision lay right next to him as if they were lovers. 

Without being lovers. 

"Good morning Hyunjin." Felix hates to wake him, but he wants to speak to him. Touch him. Know him. The requirements of the day begin soon. 

He stirs slowly, long lashes batting in confusion. 

"Did you sleep well?" Felix tucks a long strand of hair away from the boy's face. 

"Oh my God. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to--" Even disheveled he looks strikingly beautiful. He tries to rise from the bed.

"It's fine." Felix reassures catching his arm. "Please, relax.” 

He stills, but only for a moment before his lips purse in pout that Felix would very much like to kiss away. “You know my name.” He parts his lips, and breathes in through his mouth, waiting for the words that he wants to say to come to him. “Minho said you would.” 

"You met Minho,” and for a moment, none of it feels as surreal as it should. Quite the opposite. Just the mention of his husband’s name makes him feel grounded. 

Hyunjin hums in agreement. 

“I’m glad.” 

“Me too,” he yawns and stretches somewhat leisurely like a large cat, as if he did not question Felix's permission to be comfortable for one second after permission was granted. "Prince Felix, would you like me to do what I came here to do?" 

Felix's heart skips a beat. After all, Hyunjin is quite beautiful. “Didn’t you already? You were sent here to sleep right?” Felix asks with a smile. 

To that, Hyunjin laughs. “Yes, and I did it well. I am known for my diplomacy.” Soft pink tongue parts dry lips still painted rogue from last night as if Hyunjin waits for his instruction, for his decision. 

Want pulls at his stomach. It's a dangerous game that he knows he won't win. He couldn't kiss those plush lips and leave it at that. But he flies dangerously close to the sun with brilliant wax wings and kisses Hyunjin nevertheless. 

In his vision, Felix saw him dance with wild abandon. Want clouded his expression. But their kiss defies everything that he knew, or everything that he thought he knew about Hyunjin. Lips plush and pillowy soft, their kiss is gentle, to the point of tentativeness. 

The next kiss is needier, but still uncertain. He traces the seam of Hyunjin’s mouth and Hyunjin answers with a sigh letting him inside to the warmth and the wet of his mouth. Their kisses continue in that fashion, exploratory commingled with want and the question. For Felix, there was no question whether or not it is legitimate or manufactured. Not when mutual want builds in the air with each moan and sigh. 

And in that moment, Felix makes a choice from which he knows there is no returning. 

He works a hand in between them, grinds his palm against him, and feels Hyunjin’s cock fill out with each and every touch. 

It would be difficult, if not impossible for Hyunjin to conceal his arousal given how little he wore to bed. Felix’s long dressing robe is rucked high around his waist and he can feel lace, so delicate looking and so coarse feeling, so damp from arousal, against his skin. If the sensation of damp lace against his thigh is irritating to him, it must be tortuous for Hyunjin. “Can I take these off?” 

And when Hyunjin complies, Felix is rewarded with the largest cock he’s ever seen, full and straining against Hyunjin’s stomach. 

“Good boy,” it’s something that Chan says to him often. He wonders if his husbands know that he learns from them, and borrows from them, and becomes better from them. 

Felix plays with him, leisurely at first, simply watching his hand move up and down his length. Watching the rest of his body react to Felix’s touch: his eyes opening and fluttering shut, his flushed skin that glows with sweat. Although he rocks up into Felix’s touch, he almost seems nervous, as if he isn’t used to this kind of dynamic. 

“Is it good for you?” He wants to make him feel the way that Chan makes him feel. That Minho makes him feel. That Seungmin makes him feel. Taken care of and whole. 

“Very-ah, so many aren’t this generous.” 

“You deserve this.” He deserves so much more than fleeting pleasure. He deserves love, and affection, and devotion. In that moment he dawns on him. What if those long fingers never know the weight and smoothness of a ring? What if those long eyelashes were never to be kissed under wedding wisteria? 

It’s then that Felix focuses on Hyunjin fully, stroking him deeply and palming the head of his cock. Watching in rapt fascination as he winds Hyunjin tighter and tighter, his fingers balling in the sheets. He can feel him twitch and pulse beneath his touch, but he remains aching hard. “Aren’t you close love?”

“Ah, I need--I--” 

Felix knows exactly what it is that he needs because he feels this way so often himself. Brought close to the edge and stuck there, the plateau on a mile high mountain. There’s lubricant in the bedside table, but to reach for it now would mean to tear himself away from Hyunjin. He cannot bear the thought, even if for a moment. So he presents Hyunjin with the tips of his fingers, and Hyunjin accepts them immediately, hollowing his cheeks around them. Showing him what he is capable of, he coats his fingers in saliva. 

Felix continues to touch Hyunjin, earning him several more broken whines. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” 

Felix pulls out his fingers and presses, the first fingertip, and then the second. Although Hyunjin deserves the oils and salves in his bedside table, his spit damp fingers are adequate. Hyunjin certainly must train his body for this, because his body is impossibly tight but accepting. 

“Ah, yeah just like that. Ah--Felix, I’m going to--” 

“Please--” 

Hyunjin spills across his stomach. The gems adhered to his skin become covered in milky white cum. 

Felix is so used to being the one left laying in bed, cum smeared across his stomach. So used to being the one left with static in his brain and heavy eyelids. It’s strange, and wonderful, and rare, when it’s his job bring a warm wet rag back to bed, when it’s his job to clean sex blemished skin. 

As he cleans, he notices Hyunjin’s blissful expression changes into one of pinched worry. “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m not supposed to…” Hyunjin shakes his head in confusion. “I was supposed to bring you pleasure.” Quickly, as if he’s done something wrong. “Let me.” 

“No. No--Hyunjin I...” It would be untrue to say that he doesn’t want Hyunjin right now. He does very badly. His cock tents in his thin sleeping clothes. He wants Hyunjin, but not if Hyunjin sees him as an obligation. “I’m fine.” 

The sun rises high, certainly early morning fades. The obligations of the day have already begun. Yet he selfishly steals another moment with Hyunjin, embracing him on the bed, head buried in his chest. Kissing the crown of his head, he doesn’t even know what he’s saying until Hyunjin’s looking at him in disbelief. “Marry me?” Felix has asked this particular question many times but never this quickly. Never this recklessly. Never without proper courtship, a ring to show his intentions are truthful, a reason for loving him beyond  _ he is beautiful _ . 

Hyunjin looks up at him. He knows this expression. He’s seen it before in his vision, that place where surprise meets judgement. 

“Marry you? You don’t even know me,” Hyunjin bristles. “I just came here to sit on your cock.” 

“That’s fair, but--” He doesn’t want Hyunjin to go, and he certainly doesn’t want to force him to stay. “There’s more than that. For both of us.” 

“You don’t know that.” Hyunjin corrects, and it tears Felix’s heart apart. 

“The prince plans to stay here for some time. Walk through the palace as if it were your home, as if we were married.” 

Felix squeezes Hyunjin beneath him, still uncertain if he’s real when he responds, “okay.” 

* * *

Hyunjin does as Felix suggests, walking and living within the palace as if they were married. As if it were his home. He’s given a small quarters on the east end of the palace. When the sun rises, it catches in the rose and cyan colored stained glass that decorate his windows. On the mornings that they cannot wake up together, he often eats bread that Felix baked for him. Its the little things makes him feel closer. 

He spends his days with the men that call Felix their husband. 

There are Seungmin and Chan, who work so tirelessly. 

There is Changbin, who seems to doesn’t seem to know the meaning of work. He fills his days with reading, exercising, and derailing the productivity of others. Hyunjin likes him immensely. 

Then there is Han who does not seem to like him at all. 

Jeongin, who seems so young, too young to be married even though there is not that much difference in age between them at all. 

Then there is Minho. One that he does not particularly have the most in common with, one that he does not particularly find the most pleasant. Yet, he finds himself drawn to him more often than not. 

Perhaps it is because his love for Felix seems, above all other things, pragmatic. Given how suddenly, how intensely he felt passion for Felix, he finds Minho grounding. If he has not raised the mystic’s ire or suspicion, then he hasn’t lost his last shreds of sanity. 

For the most part. 

“You want me dead,” Hyunjin hisses between gritted teeth. 

“I most certainly do not,” Minho scoffs. 

“You threatened to tie me to a boulder and throw me into the river three times today alone.” 

“But right  _ now,  _ none of this would work if you were dead.” 

“You know, I’m starting to believe that you’re just being cruel. This isn’t part of any spell, or incantation, or cure or--” 

“You are always underfoot. I’ve decided to make use of you.” Minho says this as he lifts up his shirt and slathers his stomach with a pungent mixture of honey, garlic, and ginger. “As you should know from your studies with Seungmin--”

Hyunjin huffs in dissatisfaction. 

“As you know,” MInho continues. “A staple of our people’s cooking is the powdered red banded sugar ant. And as you know, our prince loves baking and all culinary pursuits. The best are harvested by hand, but he has no time to harvest for himself, red banded sugar ants. This is a very lovely and very kind thing we are doing for him.” 

For a moment, Hyunjin almost wishes that it were his time to study with Seungmin, because so often than not the time he spends with Minho begins, ends, or is interrupted with him being half naked, slathered in something sugary, being used as human bait. 

  
  


* * *

Staying up into the late hours of the night at the athenium, purposefully skipping out on a party to do so, Seungmin would be proud of him...That is, if he wasn’t steaming mad at him. His husband described the situation with Hyunjin as, “at best, a diplomatic nightmare.” 

Felix’s fingertips glide down the long row of books and the textures beneath change with each step: leather, cloth, and thick paper. It smells of mildew and wood pulp here. During the day time, the sun streams into these large windows and flecks of dust can be seen in the reflection. Now, at night, trimoonlight trickles into the windows and the icy cool of the night’s sky meets the dim but warm library lights. 

Felix expected to be alone here, so it is very much a surprise when discovers that he is not. 

Hyunjin, much like Felix, is still dressed in his party clothes. Long silken green harem pants are paired with a short, but flowing top. Felix wonders if the exposed ring of skin around his stomach, which is covered by little more than a thin, decorative chain, is cold. After all, he lays upon his stomach on a large floor rug in front of the fireplace book out in front of him. The bottoms of his feet turned upward, exposed to Felix as if this part of his body were secret and forbidden. 

“Changbin told me about this place. He said he likes to come here and look at the moons and then eat exactly three mooncakes. I found that odd.” 

Felix’s heart aches in his chest, he knows that Hyunjin has spent time with with his husbands. Changbin plays with his long hair. Seungmin teaches his him art and culture, although having been subjected to his husband’s seminars, “torture” may better describe them, rather than “teaching”. 

“Can I join you?” 

Hyunjin looks back at him over his shoulder in equal parts confusion and annoyance. Felix watches as he holds that expression and rotates it in a perfect half circle as he rolls onto his back, and pushes himself up on his elbows. “You’re the prince. Can’t you do what you want?” 

“I’m the prince,” Felix joins Hyunjin on the rug. Where Hyunjin seems to spill out onto every corner, Felix fits nicely seated at his side. “Someone is always watching. I can  _ rarely  _ do what I really want.” 

There’s an impishness in Hyunjin’s smile, a spark that’s stoked by the warmth and ember of the fire. “What is it that you’d do if you could?” 

“I’d kiss you.” 

“I believe that the prince would do far more than kiss me if he were allowed to do what he really wanted.” 

He speaks frankly now. The prince of Cignus leaves soon, and with him will take Hyunjin. Felix could ask for him. Could buy him with gold and precious stones, but he does not want to force Hyunjin to stay. Without an answer, Felix has nothing left to lose, not really. “Then I would fuck you. Right here, and right now.” 

“How unfortunate it is that the prince cannot do what he chooses.” 

“What would you do?” Felix asks him. 

‘I would let the prince fuck me.” Hyunjin runs his long fingers through the intricate pattern of the carpet. “Right here and right now. Although, I would hope that the prince was gentle. I am quite sore from last night’s activities.” 

Felix swallows thickly. “Sometimes I act like no one is watching.” When Felix looks at Hyunjin he sees eyes widened with want. A lip quivering with need. Of that he is certain. Commitment, the future, he cannot be certain that he finds it in Hyunjin’s expression. So Felix takes what he is certain of. 

He takes soft lips between his teeth. Sucking and biting on them until they’re swollen, somehow fuller than normal. He works the band of Hyunjin’s thin, decorative pants down below the swell of his ass as he pushes him down onto the rug. 

He miles as Hyunjin hands him a small vial, to which Felix shows him his own. “You expected this.” 

“I have my reasons,” Hyunjin says. 

“So do I,” among them, being married several times over. 

Their coupling is rushed, and Felix wonders if he will ever be granted the time, time to take Hyunjin apart and build him back up. Tease him until he’s crying, kiss the tears away, and fuck him until he cums. He’s learned so much about how to please a man from his husbands, and Hunjin deserves to see all of it. He certainly deserves more than Felix clumsily spilling lubricant down his crack and onto the rug. Deserves more than Felix pushing the head of his cock inside of Hyunjin too quickly. 

The cry rings out and echoes across the empty halls of the atheneum. Felix makes no attempt to muffle his cries. 

He deserves a lover that heeds his warning, remembers that he’s sore from their tryst the night before. But like a compulsion, Felix fucks into Hyunjin hard and fast. Hyunjin’s body, soft and forgiving, pulls him in despite his recklessness, as if his body longed for Felix even before he had the chance to be absent. 

Hyunjin calls for him in a furious plea to which he hangs on every word, “ _ Yes, fuck me. Please. Prince. Felix. Please.”  _

He’s close, and it’s enough to push him over the edge. Felix sheathes himself deep inside Hyunjin and fills him with his cum. 

Although there is hardly any time for afterglow, they make the time after Hyunjin cums into Felix’s hand and after Felix does his best to clean Hyunjin with their discarded clothes. They both lay upon their backs, Hyunjin in the crook of his arm upon the carpet and stare up at the stars. His pouty mouth pulls into a defined frown at the sight. “You know, the prince of Cignus doesn’t know the season of my birth, my favorite things to eat, why I love dancing so much.” 

The statement upsets Felix even though--

“You don’t either. Although you may know more now than you did a few days ago. The difference is, the prince has never asked me to marry him. I don’t understand how it can have that much meaning, something that you’ve already done so many other times?” 

“It’s different every single time. I can’t compare what I have with Seungmin to what I have with Chan, or Jisung, or any of the rest.” 

“It’s just all very confusing. I thought it was very strange that you would marry someone of my status...Someone who has already belonged to another. But I spoke to Minho. He also has belonged to another.” 

“You both are quite similar.” 

“Hm,” Hyunjin agrees. “I liked talking to him, even if he is strange.” Hyunjin continues to speak. Felix likes that about him so much. He’s always spoken to him so freely. That’s what he wants with all of his partners, to be seen as equals. “I am a little lonely in the Prince’s harem. There are so many, and there is so much fighting for his affection.” 

“I could see that.” 

“It’s strange. There are fewer people here, but I don’t think that I would be lonely.” 

“I don’t think you would either.” Felix takes this moment to kiss at Hyunjin’s neck, his collar bones, the lobe of his ear. Hyunjin does not push him away. If he wanted him again, he could surely have him. His cock twitches at the mere thought. 

“I’ve gone through the palace grounds, spent time with your husbands, learned what my life would be like if I lived here, but there’s still no way of knowing.” 

Felix’s mouth draws into a firm line. “No there isn’t.” 

“But Minho,” Hyunjin turns on his side and wraps his long limbs around Felix as if he were an anchor and Hyunjin was afraid of being swept away. “Minho said there was one more thing that we could do. A ritual.”

“He’s told me about it.” When two people like he and Hyunjin are inexplicably, spiritually bound, there are ways to strengthen the connection. Create stronger images, better understand the future. 

“Would you do it?” Hyunjin wonders. 

“You want that?” Felix asks. 

Felix’s agreement is all but sealed when Hyunjin tells him, “very much.” 

* * *

“Your highness,” Minho’s voice is honey sweet, and he knows that although he’s the least likely to incite and suffer Minho’s playful-sharp wrath, the tone he uses is never really a good sign. The long, pale mint colored silk robe that he so often likes to wear to bed hangs open and loose across his body. The long flowing fabric, freed from the confines of the belt, dangles loosely around his neckline, exposing smooth skin and clavicle bones that beg to be kissed. “So nice of you to make it. We’ve been waiting.” 

Minho’s beauty is unparalleled, he’s never questioned that. In fact, it’s reified now, because he focuses on him and him alone. It isn’t until Minho’s gaze breaks with his own and drifts lower that he can see the bigger picture. Hyunjin lies before Minho, dressed in the same shade of dark emerald green that enveloped Felix in his vision. The long robe of green velvet drapes down past his ankles, and is pushed apart at his sides. The fabric parts to reveal pale and unblemished skin and a thousand or more coveted places that Felix would like to kiss. He’ll start with his collar bones, and sensitive buds of his nipples. Then he’ll travel downward to his navel, but only after he pushes up the long thin gold chain draped across Hyunjin’s stomach. Then he’ll move to the v of his hips before he lavished attention on his aching hard cock, and the ball of his ankle where a single golden anklet taunts Felix. 

It takes Felix a moment to understand that the place where mint green silk meets dark emerald is purposeful. Minho’s fingers are buried deep inside of Hyunjin, taking him apart in a way that he knows intimately well. There have been so many nights where Felix has felt angry at the lack of progress in legislation, petulant when a particular agreement or treaty falls through, hopeless and small when political opponents question his abilities as a young leader. On those nights he either goes to Minho himself, or gets sent to him by one of his other, less patient husbands. 

The dynamic that he has with Minho is...special. 

He can map each rotation of Minho’s wrist, and each curl of his fingers. To watch this as an outsider makes him blush. When Minho does these things to him, does his cock leak so profusely and so furtively? When Minho does these things to him, does he make such shameless expressions, rock into his touch so needily? 

Then there is the part of him that burns so red, simply because Minho does effortlessly all the things that he’s wanted to do to Hyunjin himself. Minho has a way of making people hurt with want for him. 

“What have you done to him?” 

At the sound of his voice, Hyunjin flushes bright red. His stomach flutters at the sound of Felix’s voice. His cock twitches against his flat stomach. 

“Ah, don’t worry,” Minho stills his fingers, but keeps them inside of Hyunjin. With his other hand, he touches his cock. Not firmly enough to satisfy, but absolutely enough to drive him wild. Felix knows this touch well too. 

“He just couldn’t keep quiet.” In addition to the fabric tied over his eyes, the belt of his long green robe is stuffed into Hyunjin’s mouth to gag him. His wrists are bound too, and hooked into the mouth by the fangs of one of the many carved, decorative lion’s heads that surround the chamber for this purpose and this purpose alone. 

Felix’s gut instinct is to interrupt, to pull the loosely tied knot away from Hyunjins wrist, and remove the cloth from his mouth, but he sees no true distress from Hyunjin, and Minho is devilish but not cruel. 

“Hyunjin,” Minho’s voice is calm but sweet. “Felix is here for you.” Minho curls his fingers deep inside of Hyunjin one more time before pulling them out slowly. 

Felix can hear Hyunjin’s muffled whine through fabric, and it makes his heart pound in his chest. Twin tugs of fear and jealousy intertwine around his wrists and ankles anchoring him into place.

He is married to the princes of other nations, nobelmen among his own people, the sons of powerful merchants, and those of common blood. In the eyes of his planet, people, and culture, Felix is not an equal to any of his husbands. He stands above upon a pedestal. He hates that assumption, and does his best to eschew it at every turn. In his marriages he considers himself as equal to all of them. Except in the case of one. Felix has never, for a second believed that he and Minho were equals. For Minho stands at the place where unwavering devotion and cunning intelligence meet. The result is an insight and power that he will never know or understand. He and Minho have never been equals, and he will not forget it. 

“The only problem is, you’ll find that he’s much more cruel than me.” Then he extracts the wadded up silk from Hyunjin’s mouth, but replaces it right away with his fingers making Hyunjin taste himself. 

Hyunjin accepts, taking Minho’s fingers and sucking on them in a way that is nothing other than obscene. 

A soft moan slips between the three of them. Felix’s assumption, that he and Minho are not equals, is affirmed when he realizes that the moan comes from him. “I am not,” Felix responds. 

Minho smiles at him like he knows something that he doesn’t. Felix assumes that this is the truth. “Show him.” Minho rises and backs away from Hyunjin. As he shifts, his robe spills open. Felix is rewarded with the sight of bare skin. Minho’s cock stands proud and erect. The gap between them does not disappear, but it lessens, ever so slightly. “Wait,” Minho catches him. “May I have a kiss your highness?” 

Felix complies. Minho’s mouth burns want and mysticism. When their mouths are pressed together, when Minho sucks on his tongue, it feels as if Minho transfers some of that electric confidence that he wields so effortlessly to him. 

When his kiss with MInho ends, Felix is eager to take his place between Hyunjin’s legs. Draping himself across Hyunjin’s long form to kiss him, Hyunjin’s lips are full, his mouth, sloppy wet. He kisses Hyunjin greedily and gets everything that he demands, but Felix wants more. He caresses freely, luxurious skin, making up for all the quick and furtive fucks they’ve had before now. Running his thumb over Hyunjin’s right nipple and then his left. Trailing downward, tracing the shape of Hyunjin’s cock with the pad of his finger from the tip, down the length, and cupping his balls. 

Hyunjin’s broken moans, no longer stifled by soft silk reverberate in the chamber. And is Minho correct after all? Is this cruel? 

Felix hates the dissonant feeling, but cannot bear the thought of rushing forward, of taking for granted. So he wraps his hand around Hyunjin’s cock and marvels at the contrast in size between his palm and Hyunjin’s cock. 

“Minho,” Felix fists Hyunjin tight around the base. “Let me see your hand.” It’s one of the few openly affectionate things that Minho will do with him, linking and comparing the size of their small, delicate hands. 

Minho, without further instruction, fists his own hand tight around Hyunjin’s cock. 

“He’s so big.” 

“Too bad that it’s nothing more than decorative.” 

“No,” Felix soothes Hyunjin, even though Minho’s words seem to make his cock throb rather than hurt. He touches the soft inner skin of his thigh in comfort. “It’s perfect. He’s perfect.” 

“Please--” choked and vulnerable. 

“But that’s why you asked me here right?” 

Felix knows that he ignores Hyunjin’s plea when he slips two fingers inside of him. The stretch and the glide are  _ nothing  _ in comparison to what Hyunjin truly wants. And there’s a part of Felix that wants to say, fuck the ritual. Take Hyunjin here and now while Minho watches. Fuck him so hard that he cums across his stomach without a single touch to his cock. 

“I’ve got you.” He speaks first to Hyunjin. “How long have you tormented him?” Felix asks Minho as he curls his fingers deep inside. Hyunjin is seering hot inside of him. Fucked open, ready. He could take his and Minho’s cock for hours. 

“Barely an hour,” Minho responds. “Hardly enough time. But now that you’re here, things should go faster.” 

Felix, at the risk of breaking whatever ritual was already enacted, releasing into thin air, whatever magic has been created, slips the strip of fabric away from Hyunjin’s face. He wants to make sure. “You want this Hyunjin?” 

Hyunjin’s eyes are blown wide, pupils dilated from the darkness. Jaw slack, lips parted, he looks ruined and Minho’s barely just begun with them. “Yes.” 

“Alright. Then I want this too.” 

Minho hurries him up in order to slow him down, helping him out of his formal clothes, kissing him with a fierceness, aggression that he’s never seen before. It comes as no surprise when Minho does to him what he’s already done to Hyunjin, tying his arms together and slipping a band of fabric around his eyes so that he cannot see. “Don’t move,” Minho orders. 

Felix finds those orders difficult to obey. The room is different now in the darkness. Hyunjin’s body burns ember hot next to him. They strain against their bonds to intertwine their fingers,and he realizes that he’s afraid of the future. 

Minho positions him on the mattress. Grabs him by the base of his cock, and guides him into perfect warmth. A velvet tightness that holds onto his cock and does not let go. He has fucked Hyunjin now, multiple times, but never has it felt so molten and primal. WIth his senses dulled, there is only the tight wet place where he and Hyunjin are joined. 

  
  


“Relax,” Minho husks into the shell of his ear. “Don’t move,” he repeats. Felix obeys, despite the fact that his thighs quiver with want. Despite the fact that Hyunjin tightens around him and whimpers for him. “Clear your minds.”

The room is uncomfortably warm. The air is thick with the bodily scent of sweat, incense, and the sweet viscous liquid that they use as lubricant. 

Felix’s mind slowly clears. He thinks not of the treaties trade budgets that he’s tirelessly worked through with the representatives of Cygnet over the past few days. He does not think of the diplomatic implications of marrying Hyunjin. Although his mind holds onto it for the longest, eventually, he allows himself to stop thinking about what Hyunjin’s answer will be. He’s enveloped by dark green velvet once more. It lacks the weight, the threats to smother him, as it did last time. It feels warm, inviting, and soft against his skin. 

Familiar touches take his heedless desire and shape it into something directed, refined, beautiful. “Think about him. What draws you to him?” 

Minho rests behind him now, his cock pressing against the crack of his ass. He dare not wantonly press against it as he so badly wants to do. Minho guides Felix’s hips, slowly forcing him to grind into Hyunjin. He allows one, two, three shallow thrusts before holding his hips in an iron tight grip. 

“Think about him,” Minho instructs once more. 

The back of Felix’s eyelids are panted with images from the past few days. Hyunjin curled up on the floor reading a book. Hyunjin kneeling at his throne with his head resting in his lap. Hyunjin, with sketchbook and charcoal in hand drawing secretive likenesses of himself and his husbands. He is beautiful. He is attentive. He is thoughtful. 

That is why Felix is drawn to him. 

When those images fade from his mind’s eye, Minho lets him fuck into Hyunjin. Guiding his hips and holding him firm, he only lets him go long enough to keep him from growing soft and sliding out. And it’s absolutely maddening, the way that Hyunjin begs for him, and the way that he so badly wants to take him. 

Then the heavy scent of the room grows sweeter. Cold gel gets smeared between Felix’s legs and then Minho’s pressing into him too. Two fingers right away. No reprieve when Minho starts pumping them in and out as if he were really fucking him. 

“Think about your future with him.” 

Then, just as quickly as Minho began to finger fuck him, he stops moving, keeping his fingers buried deep inside. 

“Don’t move.” 

. 

Although imperfect, clouded, what he sees now represents a possible version of the future. He sees himself meeting Hyunjin’s family. In a modest home in Cygnus, he presents a woman with a stern face and a lithe dancer’s body with a magnificent dowry. 

In the arboretum, on the second floor, he fucks Hyunjin against the condensation fogged glass paneling that overlooks the eastern courtyard. Surrounded by large leafed plants, and shielded by Hyunjin’s body, he puts him on display to anyone passing through that part of the palace. 

“Of course that is where your mind goes Felix,” Minho chuckles darkly into his ear. The blunt tip of Minho’s cock catches at his rim, pushes inside and maddeningly slides out. Minho finds new ways to torment him, alternating shallow penetration: his cock inside of Felix, Felix’s cock inside Hyunjin. 

They do this for what feels like hours. Feeling, experiencing, and when Minho allows it, fucking. 

At some point, the visions shift. 

They step off of a boat into a land that is foreign to both of them as diplomats. They are greeted with fanfare. 

It’s only then that he realizes that these experiences are different from the others. They are not from his point of view, but from Hyunjin’s. They belong to Hyunjin’s future. Together, he and Hyunjin, older than they are now, stand in a field of wisteria. Children, plentiful in numbers, far more than he can count, play among the flowers and chase after butterflies: hairstreaks, harvesters, and metalmarks. 

“Ah,” Minho gasps into his ear. 

Minho allows them to actually fuck now, his cock driving in deeper to Felix, and Felix fucking deeper into Hyunjin. Overstimulated and desperate, he writhes below Felix, grateful for the additional touch and urgently wanting more. 

The life that they build together is  _ so, so good.  _

Felix flashes back to the present. He pulls off his own blindfold, and then Hyunjin’s. In a fury they kiss away one another’s tears. Draw each other closer. Deeper. That future is not certain for them, but it is possible. And that alone is worth trying for. 

Felix fucks into Hyunjin the way that he has wanted to do since he first laid eyes upon him in the flesh, in his bedroom. Fucks him the way that he deserves to be fucked, each stroke of his cock hitting  _ that  _ spot, bringing him the most pleasure. They’re both still crying, but it feels so good. So right. 

Hyunjin cums across his stomach with a sharp cry, and Felix cums deep inside of him. 

Felix never has wanted to be known as a greedy ruler. He believes in the frequent and worshipful expression of gratitude. So he pulls out of Hyunjin and turns his attention toward Minho, who had pulled out of him at some point to let them be and stay close. 

If the love that he feels for Hyunjin right now is strong, then the love that he feels for Minho is vast. Whether he wants to be or not, he is a part of them. He is a part of their story. Without him there is no them. 

Felix drops to his knees and takes his cock into his mouth, tasting himself on his lips. Felix sucks him off with such urgency, stopping only to let Hyunjin lap at the head or bob on his cock for a few scant moments. 

“Oh if your other husbands could see you like this,” Minho’s voice is velvet, and the threat of humiliation almost makes him sound kind. “Seungmin would like it the most, don’t you think? Or maybe Han?” 

Minho pulls them off of his cock, and takes himself into his own hand. 

He cums across both of their faces as they kiss one another. “I’m glad the two of you could come to an agreement.” 

* * *

Whether he wants to be or not, he is a part of them. He is a part of their story. Without him there is no them. 

When they go to Minho, they do not find him in his temple, but in his chambers. Felix raps on the door once, twice, three times in rapid succession and gets no response. “He’s a very deep sleeper,” Felix mutters under his breath before yelling in a very un-princely fashion, “Hey MINHO!” 

Nothing. 

Only then does Felix allow himself into Minho’s chambers. 

The rooms are dark, but Felix maneuvers through them expertly, holding Hyunjin’s hand all the while. 

Minho sleeps beneath a large, open window, gauzy curtains shrouding him as the wind puffs them outward. Moonlight illuminates his skin and makes him look like liquid silver. His eyes are open wide as if he were in a trance. 

Felix climbs into bed with him and kisses him on the cheeks, the mouth, and the forehead. And Felix’s charms seem to work, even on this contrary creature. “Minho, I’m sorry to wake you, but please.” 

Impossibly large eyes flutter open, and he looks at Felix with fondness. 

Then, he turns to Hyunjin. Rancor coats his voice, but it sounds forced to him. “What the hell are you doing here? It’s your wedding night?” 

Minho toussles his hair against the bed linen, setting his head in Felix’s lap. He looks up at his husband with a genuine softness and love that he doesn’t often see in this contrarian man. Reaching upward, he touches the side of his cheek softly. 

Felix responds honestly, “we wanted to thank you.” 

Hyunjin does not intrude upon something deeply intimate, but takes part in it. The space is cozy, and filled with strange knicknacks. Housecats come and scent themselves on his shins, weaving in and out between his legs. Hyunjin too crawls into bed. 


End file.
